


And the Boys

by eggjam



Series: On and On [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggjam/pseuds/eggjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, Makoto understood him better than anyone. He just cared more about Haru than the ocean, and where Rin offered reckless abandon Makoto offered safety. He didn't have to guess anymore where he'd gone wrong, and that was the real difference between Rin and himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Boys

**Author's Note:**

> for a couple of bullies. enjoy the angst. you paid good emotes for it.  
> 

He watched them in the dark, two silhouettes against the moonlit lawn with its precisely tended trees and walkways glowing silvery blue in the windows, and he wondered where he was meant to be; if he was being needed somewhere he'd forgotten about until there at the end of the day. 

 

Makoto was there at the beginning, sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of him on the sidewalk with an easy smile for even a little boy as sullen as Haru. The heavy mist that clung to the air had managed to creep inside him somehow, fill up his eyes, wide and blue and boring unfocused holes into the rickety fence beside them while their mothers talked names and dates above their heads. Makoto made silly faces which didn't impress quite so much as they were supposed to until he was told to stop, and Haru still hadn't laughed or even smiled, but he was determined. Haru had been there first, balancing himself with a hand on her shoulder while she tied his shoe, but Makoto and his mother had come along shortly, and it stayed that way thereafter. 

Wherever Haruka went, Makoto followed, never more than a step behind because he figured Haru needed some support at his back if he was going to use obstinacy to win his wars. His mother was a busy woman, and she'd never told him how the river always made sand out of the stone. Makoto had tried. He'd pushed a fist deep into the wet muck under the low tide and held it up high to let it plop back into the water. As with everything else Haru didn't like, he'd dismissed it quietly with a look and turned back to the horizon daubed with far-away gulls. Their caws carried over the splashing of Haru's feet as he swam away, and Makoto crouched with his arms folded over his knees to watch.

Before he was too old to have use for it, Makoto found himself fluent in silence.

 

Hazuki Nagisa had eventually come along behind, taking his position with an eager bow the first morning of middle school swim team tryouts. Makoto was there because it was summer, it was hot, and where the water was so too was Haru. "You have to be my friends," he said, breathless with enthusiasm, regarding Haru in much the same way that a small child does a comic book hero.

Haru had responded more forcefully than Makoto had ever heard him with an easy "No," and thankfully, Nagisa was no less stubborn and far more cheerful. He made friends of them anyway.

Nagisa hadn't been there at the beginning exactly, but he came closer to the beginning than the end. Lavishing Haru with attention he didn't quite understand because of its sincerity, confusing him and setting him to reluctantly acknowledging his talent, Makoto accepted Nagisa because he was beneficial. If Makoto couldn't persuade Haru to be proud of himself, Nagisa would have to be up to the challenge. Haruka had a riptide for blood and natural talent which lent itself to rumor, attention, but he dodged it all deftly because he didn't swim to win or enjoy the way scrutiny made obligations out of lifestyles. It was hard making Haru appreciate himself, too guarded and wary of the way their brand of praise was an insistence to do more and better when all he wanted was to feel the water around him, sink to the bottom of a cold, deep pool and be left alone to stay there forever if he could figure out how to stop needing to come up for air. Until that day came when he managed to figure it out, Makoto decided he would be there to reach in a hand and pull him up when he needed it, and with Nagisa there to help, maybe he'd be more willing to come up after all. Thankfully, Nagisa knew to fall in behind Makoto. Haru came first, but he was always second, and Nagisa was a welcome third. It was a small comfort when he came to realize that he had learned to read the silence but understood that, by then, there should have been words of some kind - something just for him - but there were none. There was silence and sea mist behind the blue of his eyes, and try as he might Makoto couldn't quite find his way through it. 

He watched Haru at practice closely, proud and amazed at the way his body moved in the water, the long strokes of his arms and legs, reaching the end of the pool and turning, kicking off, flowing back to Makoto where he waited on the other side with the same grace as he'd gone across, never losing momentum or composure, and he was content. Now, instead of waiting to reach in for Haru when he was finished, he allowed Nagisa to grab him up excitedly and instead waited with a towel to throw around his dripping shoulders. In his bag, he packed two lunches, two pairs of clothes, and two warm towels every day, and what tiny selfish ounce was in him dictated that no one else was allowed to do the same, and it was the one time in his life he was okay with listening. 

The day he watched the mist clear from Haru's eyes the first time they landed on Rin Mazuoka, Makoto guessed that was where he'd gone wrong. 

Unlike Nagisa, Rin had not fallen into place. When Haru took a step, Rin took two, keeping himself squarely in Haru's sights, teasing him to walk a little faster and catch him if he could. What bothered Makoto more than his disregard for order, was when Haruka said nothing about it and gladly went after him without a glance back. Makoto had always followed, and that was expected regardless of who Haru was following. It was easy to convince himself that the reason neither of them ever looked to see if he was keeping up was because they were sure he would be there and didn't need watching. He knew, though, with Rin's arrival, that he did.

And he didn't want to play second fiddle anymore. Not if he was playing to Rin.

Slowly, Makoto watched Rin envelop Haruka's attention while he himself sat stony faced on the bleachers and stared into his rucksack where there were two of everything Haru didn't care about, listening to them goad each other to new heights at the water's edge before diving in. He remembered the rain one afternoon, how he heard it over laughter he'd never heard before, and he looked up to see Haru smiling in amusement at Rin fishing his things out of the water where they'd fallen in. His heart kicked against his lungs, and he stopped breathing. 

No one noticed when he started bringing lunch for only himself and using gym towels, and it was hard to deal with the fact that it didn't matter if he was the only one doing those things for Haru if he didn't want them. Dealing with it only got easier with time, by doing what he'd always done and keeping an eye out. If Haru needed him, he'd be there, and if he couldn't make Haru smile and someone else could, that was better for him even if it was Rin. He began packing for two again, to his mother's relief, just in case Haru ever asked, and he happily listened to Nagisa dote and sigh in admiration, watching Haru do laps from their spot against the wall in the afternoons. Never did he have a word to say about Rin unless someone asked, though. Seeing them so close, Rin's friendship valued so much more highly than his own, made any kind of praise stick like glue in his throat. It was wrong, he knew, to begrudge him that way, but he did. Rin had too many sharp angles for someone as delicate as Haru to be chasing, and Makoto was the only one who could see it. "He understands me," Haru told him one morning before school, said the words like there was no one else on Earth who understood him. That wasn't true at all. No, Makoto understood him better than anyone; he just cared more about Haru than the ocean, and where Rin offered reckless abandon Makoto offered safety. He didn't have to guess anymore where he'd gone wrong, and that was the real difference between Rin and himself. The resentment he felt only intensified then, and he hoped beyond hope that Rin could stop dragging Haru into every situation he didn't want to be part of and walk alongside him occasionally. He would never say, not even with his poignant looks, but Haru needed that support, and unfortunately he didn't want it from Makoto which was terrifying. He could see in the way Rin's eyes focused on the awards case when Haru's were focused on him that Rin was careless, far too careless. Their friendship meant more to Haru, and competition meant more to Rin. It was dangerous, and Makoto saw the storm coming from far off shore.

He came on like a hurricane, caught Haru up in the chaos, took him places he hadn't known to go before, competition and inspiration, and when he left just the same way, leaving nothing but discord and wreckage behind him, Makoto figured Haru had been more wrong about their mutual understanding than he'd thought even then. Rin didn't understand Haru at all. They were like each other in the way Makoto was not, but they didn't understand each other. Where the water was so too was Rin, but Haru craved attention from a kindred spirit, and Rin only wanted to be the best and leave everything around him in upheaval so he could soak in the credit. He got his wish, and for every smile he'd brought out of Haru, he'd brought that many more problems when he'd gone. And though Makoto was angry and concerned, desperate to keep Haruka afloat in the aftermath of his hurt, the selfish spark came back, and he was happy because it was like it was meant to be again. The mist crept back into Haru until he quit swimming at school, and his unhappiness and betrayal made Makoto that much more ashamed of his selfishness.

Things settled down, but despite what he'd hoped nothing had gone back to the way it was. Rin had come, and that had changed the situation irrevocably. No matter what he did, how softly he treated Haru, how much care he took, getting him to school, making sure he ate well, and that - most importantly - he didn't drown in his bathtub, he was still always waiting for Rin. He'd smashed Haru's trust like a bull in a china shop, but he was still the most important person to him. Time was supposed to mend all wounds, but the betrayal felt by Haru was more like a deep river pouring out. It would need to be dammed, and while Makoto had the tools he never found footing to begin construction, no matter how many years went by.

Unexpected was the first word that came to mind when Rin confronted them in the old swim lounge. Dreaded was the second, and as soon as he realized who it was, that he was really staring at the source of so many years of struggle getting Haru to feel secure again, he took initiative for once and put himself in front of Rin to keep them apart, be a barrier of some kind. It didn't work at all, and just like when they had been children, Haru only had eyes for Rin. Nothing Makoto could say would deter Haruka's attention, and he was left behind again with no one looking back. He'd stopped kidding himself at that point. They didn't know whether or not he was keeping up, and they didn't care.

They started meeting more frequently. Every excuse to pick a fight was a valid one, but Rin had no idea what he did when he left. He saw all the commotion as great fun while Haru used it as some kind of retribution. Makoto couldn't stand being helpless to their involvement again, not after what happened before, how catastrophic it was. He started meeting Rin's sister in private, asking her to persuade Rin to be more careful and watch himself or that she might watch out for Haruka when he wasn't around, but he knew both of those requests were ridiculous. She said as much, too. Makoto followed along behind Haru wherever he went, and Rin was as relentless as the weather. She couldn't persuade him to do anything he wasn't already going to do, and she'd never be there in a situation when Makoto weren't. He agreed, but they continued meeting anyway. She was nice and reasonable, nothing like her brother, and he enjoyed her company, how she talked and listened to his worries and tried to offer solutions, most of which he'd tried already regardless.

What killed him was how unimportant he'd become again, more so than before, taking a backseat to their rivalry. Even Nagisa had found someone new to switch his focus on in the middle of the year, tall and handsome and peering over the edge of his glasses with disdain when they slid down his nose, but Makoto couldn't leave Haru alone, and he was left to play second seat by himself. At night, sometimes, he would wander out of his house to visit Haru. He lived alone, it wouldn't be a bother, and more than likely he'd be sunk low in his bathtub, ignoring the world, but one night he wasn't. One night, when he reached the house, Haru was standing sopping wet on his kitchen floor with the apron crushed in his hand, glaring down at the sink. It had just been a late night swim. Summer was in full swing. The beach was empty. It made sense. It was supposed to, anyway, but the beach hadn't been empty. Rin had been there, swimming, and they talked. No yelling this time. It was just two people swimming and being less than ferocious. Makoto felt cold all over but reached out to take the apron before Haru wrinkled it, folding it neatly and setting it on the counter.

He left, and so did some of his strength, and when he asked Gou about it, she said that Rin was remorseful. He was starting to understand what he'd done. She could tell; she was his sister. The words weren't much comfort, but he thanked her. With pink cheeks, she smiled, and he felt nauseated by himself when he interpreted their meaning and noticed how close they were sitting. He thought about Haru and told her he had to go, making a point to sit farther away when they met next with guilt weighing on him heavily.

The animosity between Rin and Haru lessened gradually. Rin went back to challenging Haru like he had when they were kids, and Haru went back to following after him, eager to impress again. So, unhappiness and guilt were feelings with which Makoto became well acquainted. It was damp out when he climbed the steps leading to Haru's door, and he felt them in full force. No one was home. The neighbors on the porch told him which way Haru had gone, and Makoto followed, stopping at places he could be one after the other. He wasn't at the beach, and he wasn't at the docks, so that left the school, and because he wanted to see Haru he kept walking. Otherwise, he thought he might not be able to get to sleep. The weariness hung heavy on him like the mist, but it was never gracious enough to take him under. For that he wanted Haru, but he thought of Gou and hunched his shoulders.

There was shouting when he got there. Haru's voice. Not fearful shouting, angry shouting, and it echoed so loudly in the empty corridor outside the pool room that he thought anyone might hear and come find them all. The door was cracked, and he stopped to look in. Rin was there, left side of his face brilliant in the moonlight, looking shocked and confused, and Makoto couldn't see Rin's face, but he could hear the shaky breathing. It was the kind that he used as a crutch to keep fast to his anger and hold back the hurt. 

He'd missed what was said, and what Rin said next was so low he couldn't pick it out from the crickets outside.

"You did it on purpose," Haru said.

"I was thirteen, give me a break."

"Yeah, and so was I."

"I'm only going to say it one more time: I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough. Make it up to me." Haru's voice was steady, and Rin's visible side was severe, frowning taking in Haru's face. 

"You want a kiss?"

"Stop. I want to mean something to you. It's obvious."

"Yeah, alright. But I want to kiss you anyway. " There was a pause in his movement when Makoto thought his insides had turned to molten lead, and he hoped that Haru would say no and back out, leave to find him in the hallway and lean against him for support before the river made him sand, but that was stupid, and he watched their dark outlines come together comfortably and close the moonlight solidly between them. The collar of his shirt was damp by the time he found himself out, and his chest was so tight it was hard to breathe. He didn't think there was anywhere he was being needed just then, and when he could find it in himself to speak again, he would meet Gou. He would tell her that maybe in time he could give her what she wanted, but for the moment he wouldn't lead her on; he wouldn't make her play second fiddle.


End file.
